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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381400">who are you?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicneonfishy/pseuds/demonicneonfishy'>demonicneonfishy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>february angst-fest (febuwhump 2021) [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Gen, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Minor Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, POV Andy | Andromache of Scythia, as usual I don't know how to tag, i think that's what this is, to be honest i just started writing and then this happened</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 02:56:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonicneonfishy/pseuds/demonicneonfishy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d even asked herself that question, especially in those lonely early years. Who are you? You, who walks this world alone, no family or home or true identity to fall back on. You, who doesn’t remember her own birth name. Who are you?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>february angst-fest (febuwhump 2021) [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>who are you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>day 12 of febuwhump 2021<br/>prompt: "who are you?"</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Who are you?” the new one had asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Andromache the Scythian,” she’d answered, before knocking her out. “But you can call me Andy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The funny thing is, she thinks now, driving in silence, is that that’s not even her name. She wandered alone for so long, nameless, that she’d forgotten what her name had been, all those millennia ago. Lykon had been the one to name her Andromache, when she’d told him she didn’t have a name, and she’d kept it ever since. Especially after he died, carrying a part of him with her always.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s been asked that question so many times over the years. Sometimes in fear, sometimes rage, sometimes genuine confusion. Always the same question. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d even asked herself that question, especially in those lonely early years. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you? You, who walks this world alone, no family or home or true identity to fall back on. You, who doesn’t remember her own birth name. Who are you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Quynh had asked when Andy found her in the desert, her voice hoarse from dehydration. She’d looked up at Andy as if she couldn’t believe she was real and not a hallucination. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Andy drew her knife and sliced open her palm, letting her blood drip onto the sand, holding it out so Quynh could see it heal. “I am like you,” she said, and that was all she needed to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lykon had asked, too. They’d found him in battle, taking on three people at once, and joined him without a thought. They fought together as they’d been doing it for years, watching each other’s backs on instinct alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Lykon looked at them, and smiled. “I have dreamed of you,” he said. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Warriors,” Andromache answered, and Lykon laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I meant, what are your names?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quynh introduced herself, but Andromache stayed silent until Lykon turned to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” she told him. It was the truth. It still is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we’ll have to change that,” Lykon said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He named her Andromache, and she liked the sound of the name. And in time, she made it her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Lykon died, but still she kept the name. It was hers, as much as anything ever could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicoló was the next to ask, many centuries later. They’d found him first, Yusuf close behind, and watched how he reached for his sword and moved just slightly to stand in front of Yusuf. “Who are you?” he asked defensively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yusuf touched his arm, and Andromache watched as Nicoló relaxed slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are like us, no?” Yusuf asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quynh nodded, and Yusuf smiled. Nicoló watched them both, slightly warily. The look reminded her of how Quynh had looked at her at first, like he couldn’t be sure she was real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She offered her hand to Nicoló. “My name is Andromache.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nicoló looked at her hand, then her, and after some nudging from Yusuf, shook it. “Nicoló.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now the new one. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Memories, memories, memories. Sometimes it feels like that is all she is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is every story she’s ever told Yusuf, every song she’s ever taught Nico, every game she’s ever taught Booker. Every fighting technique she’s ever taught the three of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every promise she’s ever made Quynh, every joke she’s ever told Lykon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She is every life she’s ever tried to save. She tries to do some good, like Nicky says, and that is who she is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But is it enough? The world gets worse and worse, and things change faster and faster. Too much for her to keep up with. She has seen civilisations rise and fall in what felt like the blink of an eye, but this new, constant onslaught of information is overwhelming, and she is tired. She has lived so long.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who are you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s the question, isn’t it, she thinks as she drives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who is she?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>as i said in the tags i have no idea what this is but i already did memory loss so. character study it is i guess?<br/>-<br/>i'm demonicneonfishy on tumblr too if you wanna come say hi!! (or yell at me for the angst)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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